House Rule #57: All time capsules must be buried outside

The kids were in bed. The husband had Chicago Fire cued up on Hulu. All I needed was a cozy blanket to make the evening complete.

“Now where did that blanket go…what is THAT?!!!”

I found my cozy blanket alright. I found it balled up on the corner of the sectional sofa with the following note taped to it:

“Honey? What is this?” I asked the Husband.

“A time capsule. Der.”

“Well…can I use the blanket?”

“Is it 2030?”

“No.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

What did I do? I left it there. I grumbled about how time capsules are supposed to be buried in backyards and wondered why my darling husband did not put the kibosh on the whole business when it was going down, but I left it there. I was cold, but I had the knowledge that I was being a good mom to keep me warm. Yay me.

When Eldest awoke the next morning, we had a little chat about the living-room time capsule. He was excited to tell me all about it and totally stoked at the idea of digging a hole in the backyard. In fact, he was so excited to get started that he was halfway out the door before I could tell him that he might want to find a sturdy box for the project. Not wanting to pry regarding the contents of his time capsule, though I was absolutely dying to know what he thought should be preserved for future generations, I had him describe the approximate dimensions of his treasures. I held some options up to his hands, eyeballed the fit, and found a take-and-go container that pleased him.

The next thing I knew, there was a blood-curdling scream and a 5-year-old frantically scooping up handfuls of cozy-couch blanket.

The time capsule was gone!

Privacy be darned. It was time to fess up about what might be loose, I mean, lost in my house. Eldest told me that he cut out the shape of a box from notebook paper, placed two Matchbox cars inside, and then folded and taped the box shut. He placed the time capsule on the couch, covered it with my blanket, and then added his note regarding an appropriate date for the big reveal.

Thank heavens it was not the ant farm…or worse.

However, the question remained, “Where in the sam heck does a paper and scotch tape box filled with two metal cars go?!!!”

Hours have passed. Several painful toddler interrogations have been conducted. Sadly, there are no leads. Our best guess (and by “our” I mean Eldest and by “best guess” I mean crazy idea) is that Red found the time capsule and managed to remove it without disturbing the blanket and/or note. Then Baby Girl ate the paper box before throwing the toy cars into the trash. Without leaving a trace of saliva-soaked notebook paper.

Not likely.

Although, who knows? Strange things go on around here. And I certainly have no explanations. I’m flummoxed.

Anyone with information regarding a missing notebook-paper box filled with toy cars can contact me through this website. You have some ‘splaining to do.